


Five Times The Archive Staff Piss Off Elias & One Time He Tries To Stop Them

by wordorb



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Elias Bouchard Gets What He Deserves, Everyone is friends, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Humor, Multi, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29049609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordorb/pseuds/wordorb
Summary: In which the archive gang use their supernatural job security to piss off Elias in the pettiest ways possible and everyone has a good time.(Except, of course, Elias.)
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Georgie Barker/Melanie King (implied), Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims (Implied)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 141





	Five Times The Archive Staff Piss Off Elias & One Time He Tries To Stop Them

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set vaguely in season 3 but I’m playing fast and loose with chronology (and characterisation) here to suit my agenda of TMA being a workplace comedy.
> 
> Inspired by that one conversation in a Q&A about institute dress code policy.

**_One_ **

The whole thing is of course Tim’s idea. 

He shows up an hour late as usual, wearing a pair of light blue jeans and a crop top. Martin just stares at him. 

“Hi,” Tim says serenely.

“What are you wearing?” Martin blurts. 

“Something that  _ definitely  _ isn’t appropriate for the workplace.” He doesn’t stop grinning and Melanie chuckles. Martin can’t help but smile too. When Jon emerges from his office, Tim offers him the same vague explanation. Jon actually laughs.

Tim’s clothing for the rest of the week is much the same, except on friday, when his trainers are swapped out for a pair of brown sandals that stand out against his bright pink socks. Martin stares for a moment, then hands Tim his cup of tea. It’s weird how fast you get used to your coworker dressing like a dad on holiday. 

Evidently, the sandals were a bit too much for Elias, as during their lunch break there’s a knock at the door to the archives. Martin nearly chokes on his chips when Rosie, of all people, walks in. Tim looks up at her with a pleasant smile. He’s leaning back in his chair with his feet on the desk. Rosie’s gaze fixes on the sandals for a long moment like she’s processing them.

“Tim, I’ve got a memo for you.” Tim nods, swings his legs down and deposits the container on his desk. He grabs a tissue and gives his hands a wipe.

“Any idea what it’s about?” He asks innocently. Rosie gives him a reproachful look, but there’s a smile twitching at her lips. 

“I have a feeling it’s something about appropriate workplace attire.” 

Tim stretches back in his chair as he unfolds the paper, his top riding further up. 

“I have no idea what that could  _ possibly _ be referring to,” he says. Rosie rolls her eyes then raises her hands in a gesture that clearly means ‘well don’t say I didn’t warn you’.

“Fancy a cup of tea before you go?” Melanie offers. Rosie declines politely and turns to leave. Tim calls out to promise he’ll make more of an effort next time and Martin catches the smile on her face as she shuts the archive door behind her. 

Tim clears his throat and begins to read in the snootiest voice he can muster, “Please take the time to refresh yourself on the Institute’s dress code guidelines. These are available in the booklets in the staff section of the library. As I’m sure you’ll agree, keeping up appearances is key to creating a professional workplace environment.” He snorts and scrunches the paper up. “I think they’ve been using the same memo for the last century,” he says in his normal voice. He tosses the wad of paper into the bin, landing the shot in one. There’s a fresh mischievous gleam in his eyes that gives Martin the impression that Tim has only been encouraged by this warning. 

**_Two_ **

The light in Jon’s office is already on when Martin comes into the archive on Monday morning, and he can hear the muffled sound of his voice. He’s not sure if he’s reading a statement or not, so he figures it’s best not to disturb him. Melanie’s the next in, and she offers him a bit of the pasty she’d got on her way to the institute. Martin watches as she kicks off her trainers and puts on a pair of slippers that she’d stashed in her bag.

When Tim finally arrives, the crop top he’s wearing appears to have been haphazardly chopped even shorter, and his jeans been switched out for a pair of what can only be described as booty shorts. His sandals do an excellent job of showing off the pineapples wearing sunglasses printed on his socks, Melanie compliments. 

They make it until mid-afternoon before Elias enters the archives again. This time he looks down his nose at Tim and is midway through saying something about being forced to take disciplinary action when the door to Jon’s office opens. Martin takes in the outfit in fragments: the goggles on his head, the waistcoat, the holster, the belts, then finally, the eyeliner. Elias’ voice fizzles out abruptly.

“You having words with Tim about his attire? Quite right,” says Jon, doing an admirable job of keeping his face straight. Tim throws his head back and laughs. Jon’s lips wobble but he manages to force down the smile. Elias looks… vaguely constipated. 

“If this childish behaviour is an attempt to get me to fire you, it won’t work,” he says after a long moment. 

“Oh, I know!” Says Tim. “But if you won’t fire me… Are socks and sandals really worth killing me over?” The look Elias shoots him suggests it very much might be, much to Tim’s delight. 

“At least have the decency to look professional when statement givers are here,” Elias says to Jon. Jon, who’s been inspecting his nail polish, looks up innocently. 

“He’s right Tim. The institute has a reputation to uphold.” Elias doesn’t dignify Jon with a reply before he leaves

“So, where  _ did _ you get that outfit?” Melanie asks Jon once Elias has left. Jon blinks, then starts fidgeting with his waistcoat nervously.

“I uh, was in a band in uni.”

“You were _ what _ ?” Martin asks before he can stop himself, then immediately feels embarrassed. Jon shrugs, not seeming offended. 

“I’m your boss, I try to keep up appearances.” After a moment of thought he adds, “Well -  _ tried _ to keep appearances.” 

The next day, Martin wears one of his many floral shirts and throws on a comfy mustard-coloured cardigan over the top. Melanie, who’s decked head to toe in  _ What the Ghost _ merch grins at him when she sees it. When he brings Jon a cup of tea, he’s ditched the goggles and holster, but his nails are still painted gold and he’s wearing an awful lot of eyeliner. 

_**Three** _

“What are you doing?” Basira asks Melanie, who’s currently stood on a chair removing the bulb from the light in the hallway. Today she’s wearing an obnoxious pair of rainbow leggings she’d bought for pride last year. 

“Installing this to piss off Elias,” she says, gesturing to the plastic disco light bulb perched on the chair beside her. Basira nods like that explains it perfectly.

“That why you’ve all been dressing like idiots for the last week too?”

“Yup. Would you pass the light up to me please?” Basira does so, taking the original lightbulb off her so that both of Melanie’s hands are free. The whole process only takes a couple of minutes, after which Melanie hops down to inspect her handiwork. Basira flicks the switch and the hallway is filled with spinning rainbow lights. 

“It definitely clashes with the whole ‘spooky but refined’ vibe the institute has got going,” Basira says. Then, after a moment, she adds, “I think I’ve got some string lights in a cupboard somewhere if you want those too.” 

-

True to her word, Basira brings several strings of coloured lights with her the next day. With Melanie’s help and a hammer borrowed from the supply closet, they set to work hanging the lights around the office, only pausing when Jon pokes his head out the door to say he’s recording a statement. That’s fine, Basira says as she pulls her jumper off, she was ready for a lunch break anyway. The t-shirt she’s wearing has the words _‘my eyes are up here’_ printed on it, surrounded by arrows pointing in every single direction.

The multi-colored twinkling around the office really ties in the disco corridor, Tim announces when he and Martin return from the lunch run. They’re about done eating by the time Jon finally emerges from his office. Tim rolls his eyes and tosses him the sandwich he’d saved. 

“I think the next step is posters and some fake plants,” Tim says off handedly. “Give it a real student vibe. Our Dark Academia loving boss would  _ hate _ that.” 

By the end of the week, the Archives feel pretty damn cosy. Daisy helps them drag in a sofa from the breakroom, which Martin then drapes with a large, handmade quilt. Within a week, Jon has already fallen asleep snuggled under it more than once. Whoever catches him doing so always makes sure to snap a photo and send it to the imaginatively named _ ‘ASSistant gang’ _ group chat. 

The finishing touch is Melanie’s: a set of orange and white ghost-shaped lights wound through the bannisters of the stairs leading down to the archives.

Elias doesn’t dignify them with his presence this time, but Rosie is sent down with a memo for Jon about the importance of maintaining a suitable workplace. She sighs wistfully at the decor.

“If it’s any consolation,  _ I _ like what you’ve done with the place,” she says. 

-

Jon’s walking through the disco hallway towards the archives when something makes him pause. There’s one more door than there should be. As if on cue, the door swings open and a blonde head sticks out. 

**“Hello Archivist. I rather like what you’ve done with the place,”** Michael says. 

“Thank you?” Jon replies uncertainly. The Distortion enjoying the decor is... probably not a good sign. But then again, it means he’s pretty certain that Elias will hate it even more. 

**“It’s very disorientating,”** it adds approvingly. 

“The goal was to piss off Elias,” he says, not quite sure  _ why _ he’s explaining himself to Michael. It laughs, showing off three (maybe four?) rows of teeth as it slides away from the door and into the hallway. Jon can feel the start of a headache coming and starts to wonder if maybe this was a terrible idea.

**“That is a very stupid plan, Archivist,”** it says, then pats him on the head with a long hand. Jon jerks away and Michael laughs again. It pulls back, retreating to its door.  **“Knock on my door if you need… additional assistance.”**

“With… annoying my boss?” Jon frowns, but the lock has already clicked shut. He makes a mental note to remind everyone to count the number of doors in the hall before opening any of them. 

_**Four** _

When Jon all but begs Georgie to come and visit him at work and bring the Admiral with her for a takeout in return, who is she to refuse? Besides, she’s kind of fascinated to see if he’s really as much of an ass at work as Melanie says he is. 

The receptionist is politely telling her that they don’t  _ really _ allow pets in the institute even if he  _ is _ on a lead, when Jon jogs into the foyer wearing a floor length skirt and a large cardigan. She’s pretty certain that the ratty t-shirt underneath is one he normally reserves for sleeping in. He tells the receptionist that he checked and that institute regulations don’t allow  _ dogs _ into the institute, bar guide dogs. There’s nothing in there about cats.

“If anyone brings this up, I’m telling them it’s your idea Mr. Sims,” she sighs. Jon nods, then gestures for Georgie to follow him. 

“Thanks for coming,” Jon says. Georgie shrugs.

“Well I’m glad to have an excuse to see what you’ve done to the place in person. From the photos you and Melanie have been sending me it looks like utter carnage.” Jon chuckles and bends down to pet the Admiral. 

“Oh it is! But we have very good job security,” Jon tells her with a sly smile. 

“Your makeup looks nice,” she tells him. A look of sudden realisation crosses Jon’s face, like he’d forgotten all about it. “Makes you look like a student again.”

“Only with more grey hair?” He drawls. 

-

“Aww, hello little man! Look at you in your harness, very dapper!” Tim coos. The Admiral looks unimpressed, instead making a beeline towards the familiar Melanie. Tim makes an offended noise and she sticks her tongue out at him. 

“Everyone, this is Georgie, she’s an old friend of mine. The fuzzball currently eating Melanie’s shoelaces is the Admiral,” Jon announces. 

“Old  _ friend _ you say?” Says Tim, waggling his eyebrows. Martin sputters on his tea. Daisy thumps him on the back a couple of times. Jon flips him off good naturedly and gestures Georgie towards the sofa. “First the cat snubs me, now my own boss is bullying me?!” Tim clutches a hand to his chest in mock hurt. 

“Well you could always take it up with Elias,” Basira calls from her desk. That gets a laugh out of Jon, who then turns towards the breakroom and offers to make tea.

When he comes back, Melanie has migrated to the sofa and has an arm slung behind Georgie, their legs tangled together. Basira is sitting next to them with a very happy looking cat on her lap. Daisy is crouched beside her, scratching him under the chin. Tim and Martin have pulled their chairs up next to them. Under the soft glow of the lights they look like a normal - if a little bizarrely dressed- group of friends. Jon smiles. 

Or at least, he does until he realises that Georgie’s telling the story about the one and  _ only _ time he got blackout drunk, and steps forwards to intervene. 

In the end it’s a good day, even if Jon’s ego gets a little bruised along the way. The Admiral even allows Tim to pet him after some careful consideration. 

_**Five** _

Martin all but bursts through the door one Friday afternoon. There’s a large purple teddy bear under his arm and he’s panting like he just ran the whole length of the institute. Tim, Jon and Melanie all look up from their game of poker

“Jesus Martin, are you alright?” Melanie asks. 

“You’ll never guess who I just ran into,” he says breathlessly, “ _ Peter Lukas. _ ” 

“The sea captain? Good lord, are you alright?” Jon asks, setting his cards down. Martin waves his hand dismissively. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine. I think he’d just had a meeting with Elias? And he asked me what I was holding and I panicked and said it was for our emotional support sofa. He was all  _ ‘are all Elias’ staff so juvenile?’  _ And I said we don’t care what Elias thinks if he’s going to trap us all here-” He pauses as Tim lets out a shocked laugh, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Long story short he got rambling about getting under Elias’ skin - I think he likes the sound of his own voice? - Then he like, stopped and whispered that his  _ ex-husband  _ really likes Katy Perry? Then he winked at me and vanished?” Jon gapes. 

“No way!” Melanie laughs. Martin nods gleefully. Tim can’t help it, he bursts out laughing. 

“Speculating on our boss’ personal life would be deeply invasive,” Jon says in his most authoritative, _‘No nonsense in my Archives’_ voice. “Naturally, I think some very serious follow up is in order.”

By the end of the week, Basira finds announcements in the papers for not one but  _ three  _ separate weddings between Mister Bouchard and Captain Lukas. Tim insists on printing them out and framing them. They go on the wall in a line over the sofa.

When Daisy drops by, she walks over and squints at the clippings.

“Where do you think they get the time? Getting married and divorced over and over?” She says, faintly amazed. Jon looks up from where he’s sat at his desk with the door propped open.

“Elias is... very fastidious when it comes to paperwork,” he says.

“I wonder if they had big ceremonies. Could you imagine that?” Tim says, rocking back on his chair. Daisy pulls a face. 

“I can’t imagine an avatar of the Lonely would be the type,” Jon replies. 

“I don’t think  _ I’d _ like to be stuck in a room with both of them,” Martin adds. From the statements he's read about Lukas, Jon agrees. 

  
  
  
  


**_Plus One_ **

At 9 am on Monday morning, Martin receives an email to meet Elias at his office at ten. 

“He’s singling you out on purpose, and giving you no time to prepare.” Daisy says ominously. Nobody disputes her. 

-

“Come in Martin, please sit down. I wanted to speak to you about your recent behaviour in the workplace. Your dress and office space have become completely unprofessional, but more than that, I don’t appreciate you prying into my personal life. I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s completely inappropriate.”

“Well - hang on,  _ you _ pry into our lives all the time, that’s your whole  _ thing _ !” 

Elias’ lips settle into a thin line. He studies Martin’s face with a furrowed brow for a moment longer, and then smiles. The hair on the back of Martin’s neck stands up on end.

“Yes, I rather suppose it is, isn’t it?” He pauses to take in a breath. “Your mother. She’s always been… difficult, hasn’t she?”

Martin averts his eyes and tries to focus on the door behind Elias. 

“You take care of her for years, feed her, clean up after her, and now-” Elias falters slightly, then sighs with annoyance. Martin suddenly becomes aware of faint music drifting from the door. Elias keeps talking but Martin’s too busy trying to figure out what song it is. It sounds so familiar…

Elias raises his voice a little as the music gets louder. Martin thinks he looks ever so slightly rattled. 

It’s only when the choruses kick in that Martin realises that the door (which he’s pretty sure now hadn’t been there before today) is playing three different Katy Perry songs. At the same time. In a minor key. Martin tries very hard not to laugh. Elias sighs, leaning back in his chair and massaging the bridge of his nose. “We’ll continue this meeting another time,” he threatens. It would probably be more convincing if there didn’t seem to be blotches of a red flush forming on his neck. 

Martin nods, then leaves the room as quickly as he can without running. He doesn’t let himself laugh until he’s in the archives, being greeted by his cheering coworkers. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know realistically Rosie would just send people emails rather than running physical memos around but I wanted to include her :,) 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Maybe drop me a comment to let me know what you think?


End file.
